


Important

by American_Oddysey



Category: Madness Combat (Web Series), Madness: Project Nexus (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse in later chapters, Gaslighting, M/M, Manipulation, Suicidal Thoughts, if i get to that point, it starts out fine but uh, its gonna get bad, mentions of OCs - Freeform, oof
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 00:42:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16776193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/American_Oddysey/pseuds/American_Oddysey
Summary: The Sheriff never really got why Jeb hated Phobos so much. Now he does.





	1. Chapter 1

This was not the bed he was struggling to get used to. In fact it felt remarkably similar to his old one, plush pillows, velvet sheets, this must’ve been a dream. The Sheriff kept his eyes closed. He didn’t want the dream to end. He had everything when he was still in the A.A.H.W., coming to Nexus City and getting none of the treatment he was used to was a bit of a culture shock. Maybe he could pretend he was back for just a few more minutes.

He tensed when rough hands slid up his sides. Maybe it was his fault for not noticing sooner. He tried to remember anything he did the previous night, but only finding one moment. Contemplating suicide, deciding not to, then getting shit faced.

The Sheriff cringed.  _ Coward. _ He thought.  _ Nothing has changed with you. _

One night stands weren’t really his ‘thing.’ Getting drunk as fuck wouldn’t have really been considered his ‘thing’ a few months ago either.  _ I guess there’s a first for everything. _ He let out a dry stifle of a laugh.

“You’re awake.” A slightly gravelly voice rasped from behind him, arms encircling his waist.

The voice was familiar, but the Sheriff couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I must apologise for how… unprofessional I acted last night.” The man said, resting his chin on the Sheriff’s shoulder. “But I can fully assure you that we didn’t have sex.”

The Sheriff continued to stay silent for a few more moments. “I mean, y’ don’t really have t’ worry about bein’ professional with me.” He felt awkward as hell. Don’t you normally leave before the owner of the house wakes up? “But… uh… who are you?”

The man chuckled softly. “Phobos.”

The Sheriff froze. All he could muster out was a choked out ‘oh.’ 

Phobos pulled away from the Sheriff slowly, getting up. “You shouldn’t drink so much, you’re pretty ballsy when you’re intoxicated.” He hummed. “Is there anything you’d like for breakfast?”

“N-no I think I’m fine…” The Sheriff sat up quickly when his hangover hit him like a locomotive. “I-urgh… I mean… I should r-really get goin’.”

“I insist, Sheriff,” Phobos gave the Sheriff a small smile. Even if the Sheriff had looked at the director before, he probably wouldn’t have recognised him without the helmet and eyewear. “It’s the least I can do.”

It sounded nice, like… really nice. But the Sheriff couldn’t help but remember the horror stories that Jeb had told him about both Project Nexus and the director. “... I don't really mind, I ain’t picky…” This was a stupid idea. But you know what? Fuck Jeb.

The director gave the Sheriff another smile. That was intoxicating in of itself. The Sheriff knew the Director as this uber-serious hardass that would only accept the best in his ranks. But this… felt different. Like that was just for show. Maybe that was okay. 

“Just relax and I’ll be back with breakfast and a hangover cure, okay?”

The Sheriff nodded timidly, watching as his boss left the room.

A few moments passed in awkward silence before the Sheriff got out of bed and started desperately looking for his clothes. He was hoping his boss didn’t see his dick but in all actuality he probably did. His clothes were strewn about the floor and the Sheriff was starting to wonder whether Phobos was telling the truth or not. But then he had to remember that if he slept with Phobos, there was no fucking way he would have topped, and the distinctive lack of pain in his ass told him that, no, he definitely did not sleep with Phobos. He really couldn’t tell whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, because that implied that the Sheriff waltzed into Phobos’ house(?), got naked, and passed out in the director’s bed at some point. If that wasn’t grounds for firing and a restraining order, he didn’t know what was.

The Sheriff buttoned up his shirt and looked out the window, judging if it was safe enough to jump out of. The ant-sized vehicles on the ground said no. Good. Great. Perfect. The Sheriff tried prying the window open but to no avail, the window only opened a few inches, which wasn’t even enough to get his whole arm through, much less the rest of his body.

“What are you doing?”

The Sheriff flinched and tried to retract his arm from the window. No dice. “Nothing.”

The director eyed the Sheriff before sighing and setting the tray of food on the foot of the bed. “Do you need help?”

“Uh- no.”

“Are you sure?” Phobos raised his eyebrows.

“Pretty fuckin’ sure.” The Sheriff gave another tug on his arm.

“You know I brought you back here of my own accord, right?” Phobos hummed, sitting on the edge of the bed, next to the tray. “And I gave you my room, but you demanded I stay with you.”

The Sheriff looked anywhere but at the director. “... Why?”

“I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself or someone else if I left you in the streets,” Phobos got up and approached the Sheriff. He was close, a little too close. “And I couldn’t have the commander of the MERC units get himself killed, right?” Phobos gripped the Sheriff’s wrist and gave it a firm tug, freeing it from the window’s grasp. Even after, Phobos did not let go of the smaller man’s wrist. “You’re important to me.”

The Sheriff couldn’t find words. As much as what Phobos was saying wasn’t intimate, this felt very… sensual. That feeling only skyrocketed when Phobos brought the Sheriff’s hand up to his mouth and laid a small kiss on his knuckles.

“Y-you’re important t’ me too, director.”

“Call me Phobos.”


	2. Chapter 2

The second time he woke up in the director’s bed it was no accident.

The Sheriff’s head rested on the director’s marred chest, hands intertwined together. They sat in comfortable silence like that for a while before Phobos broke it. 

“So what did you do before coming here?” He said, keeping his voice low.

The Sheriff gave a small shrug. “Nothin’ super important, I s’pose. Used to work for the force,” The Sheriff frowned, deciding to keep out the fact he never went to the police academy in the first place. “Things didn’t work out fer me that way, started my own organisation, which uh… I dunno how that’s doin’ now-”

“What was it called? I’m assuming it’s not MERC.” Phobos seemed interested despite the less-than-interesting topic.

“Agency Against Hank Wimbleton? A.A.H.W. fer short,” The Sheriff looked off and let out an awkward chuckle. “Lookin’ back it was a stupid name…” Phobos didn’t say anything, the Sheriff took it as a go ahead to keep talking. “I uh, had some problems with this one guy, he uh… I used t’ be involved with ‘im, and I think I wasn’t too good with him.”  _ You thought? You knew. You specifically went and destroyed him mentally to the point where he thought the only solution to his problem was mass murder. Realistically, it probably was. And that was your fault. _

“Involved how?”

“Er…” The Sheriff sat up. “I ain’t really… comfortable talkin’ ‘bout this whole mess…”

“I’m assuming that’s what’s been bothering you.” Phobos propped himself up on his elbows. “It might help if you talk about it with me.”

“No, it-it ain’t that,” The Sheriff let out a long sigh, pressing his fingers to his temples. “That ain’t what’s botherin’ me.”

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem telling me.” Phobos slipped his hand into the Sheriff’s. “It can’t be that bad.”

The Sheriff stared at the director for a few moments before looking away. “I used him like a whore. He was s’posed to be a prisoner, an’ in exchange fer his freedom, I could do whatever I wanted with ‘im.”

The director raised his eyebrows. “I find it hard to believe that  _ that _ isn’t what’s bothering you.”

The Sheriff was a bit taken aback by how nonchalant the director was about it. “Well, I mean, I do, even only if it’s ‘cause I think I’m still on his hit list…”

“What was bothering you, then?”

“Nothin’ really was botherin’ me I just-” The Sheriff ran a hand through his short black hair. “I guess… how I treated Jeb b’fore I left…”

“Jeb?”

“An ex, I guess.” 

“Would his last name be ‘Christoff?’”

The Sheriff should not have mentioned Jeb. “... No.”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

The Sheriff tensed. “I’m not.”

Phobos frowns, pulling away from the Sheriff. “Alright.”

“Listen I-”

“How’d you treat him?” Phobos was staring the Sheriff down with a weird sort of hostility in his eye.

“I… he… uh… I originally hired him as a bodyguard but he-”

“Killed you?”

“I wouldn’t say that-”

“Then what would you say?” Phobos cupped the Sheriff’s face in his hand, his thumb tracing over the scars on the smaller man’s face. “Brought you back?”

“... Yes.” The Sheriff shuddered under the director’s touch.

“I see,” Phobos’ expression softened. “And you’re sure it wasn’t Christoff?”

“Maybe-maybe I was remembering it wrong…” The Sheriff murmured.

“Of course you did,” Phobos chuckled. “I don't suppose a brain injury like that would do you any good mentally, now would it?”

The Sheriff didn’t remember mentioning anything about an injury. “I… I don't think so.”

Phobos pressed a hand onto the Sheriff’s chest, pushing him back down onto the bed. “Relax,” He purred, his touch soft. The director pressed his lips softly against the Sheriff’s, pressing his body closer to the smaller man’s. The Sheriff whimpered into the kiss, slipping his arms around the director’s neck.

“Do you want to?” Phobos pulled away from the kiss only slightly, his hot breath ghosting over the Sheriff’s lips.

“Not-not today.” The Sheriff was afraid of what Phobos’ response might be.

Phobos gave him a soft smile. “That’s fair.” He gave the Sheriff a peck on the forehead before rolling off to the side, laying an arm over the other. “Why are you so tense?”

The Sheriff stared up at the ceiling. He needed to choose his words carefully, but even then he didn’t quite understand why he was so tense. Sure, Phobos was apart of it, but nothing in his past really seemed to screw with his mind up until now. Maybe it was just Phobos. “I’m not sure.”

“Hey,” The Sheriff felt Phobos’ arms wrap around him. “I want to make you as comfortable as possible, okay? I’m sorry if I came off as pushy to you.”

The Sheriff nodded. “It’s fine.”

“Want me to go make breakfast?”

“That’d be great,” The Sheriff gave a small smile. Anything to get his mind off of what just happened.

Phobos hummed and sat up, stretching. “Maybe I ought to show you around the kitchen sometime, I don't want to be doing this  _ every _ morning.” It sounded playful, but with how Phobos looked at him, the Sheriff couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.


End file.
